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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27529582">You're a bad idea, but I like it</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notawriterjustalurker/pseuds/Notawriterjustalurker'>Notawriterjustalurker</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Daredevil (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Friends With Benefits, Light Angst, Matt has feelings, Pillow Talk, Sex for stress relief, Smut, but Matt is a good teacher, its a really bad attempt at, karen isn’t very good on a punch bag, mutual idiots, praise kink for no reason at all</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 06:28:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,810</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27529582</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notawriterjustalurker/pseuds/Notawriterjustalurker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt has no trouble funneling his frustration into his fists. Karen's not so lucky.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Matt Murdock/Karen Page</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>70</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Sometimes I feel like I'm the guy from the salt bae meme but with smut 😂 anyway, here's nearly 3 chapters of it </p><p>🤏🤏</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Funny how quickly strange things could become so ordinary when you did them enough. </p><p>Like how for Karen, checking in on Matt Murdock was now as normal an activity as checking her email — or even worse than that, ordering Foggy's nonsensical paperwork, which wasn't even her job anymore, but she still did it anyway.</p><p>That was the point.</p><p>Today was no different, aside from where she was checking. Karen knew Matt wasn't at his apartment, he wasn't at the office either; and it was too early for him to be out — that only left one other place.</p><p>Fogwell's Gym may as well have been a foreign planet to the girl who had gotten far too used to the comforting weight of a firearm in her hand bag and the power of the unassuming pen and paper in her pocket.</p><p>This dingey, half forgotten about, hole in the wall of New York City, was the Devil's sanctuary. And here, for some reason or another, the distance between whatever he and her were supposed to be, felt less like a inch, and more like a light-year. </p><p>Karen knuckles hovered for a moment before tapping timidly on the glass panel in the door, her hoodie zipped all the way up under her chin, knowing that he'd already long figured out she was here. That fact alone was the only reason she didn't linger there any longer, didn't take any pleasure in listening to the muffled sounds of him grunting and pummeling his fists into leather.</p><p>It was early evening now, and there was still enough light pouring in from the street to illuminate his figure in the gloom as it moved like a dying shadow; flickering, like the flame that was casting it might extinguish itself at any moment, leaving nothing to prove that he ever existed there at all. </p><p>Karen took a few cautious steps into the room, fiddling anxiously with the nothingness in her hands. "Foggy said you'd be here," she said. "I wanted to check you were… " she trailed off. The persistent thought that she was intruding, confirmed by the surprised look on his face.</p><p>"Karen." Her name sounded like an effort, like he hadn't put enough air aside to talk; and now she was demanding words from him.  "I uh, —" he swallowed and his rib cage lifted underneath his loose vest top, dragging in oxygen as he wrapped his arms around the bag to stop it swinging. "I'm fine." </p><p>Probably about as fine as she was then.</p><p>Not very fine at all.</p><p>"You okay?" He added like an afterthought, squinting a little and licking the sweat from where it was dripping down onto his top lip.  </p><p>Karen nodded unconvincingly because there was no point lying. She perched on the uncomfortable edge of the ring, poising her hands in her lap. </p><p>She felt so out of place here. </p><p>"Rough day," Matt offered. They both knew it had been. </p><p>The cases they'd taken on recently were grim ones, cases that made Karen's skin crawl; cases that forced her to look under stones that no one had bothered to move in years (for good reason too) the ones coated in that thick, black, ugly sludge that infected the very roots of Hell's Kitchen.</p><p>All that had resulted in her being up to her neck in PI work — drowning in it, actually, which wasn't bad in and of itself; it kept her busy at least, but Matt and Foggy had so much faith in her — too much faith. Sometimes she felt like she was in a pressure cooker, being crushed mercilessly from all sides — Death by well-intended expectation.</p><p>That wasn't the only thing. There had been other stuff too, <em> family </em> stuff she supposed.</p><p>She hated that word. </p><p>And she certainly wasn't here to talk about the embarrassing minor breakdown she'd had in the office because of it.</p><p>To top it off, Matt, like always, was beyond exhausted even though he would never admit it — his moods varied from from painfully friendly to more stubborn than ever.</p><p>So today, when he'd disappeared like a shot on the steps of the courthouse without so much as a goodbye, Karen knew it could only mean one thing.</p><p>"It'll work out," Matt said when she was quiet for too long. "Don't worry about me."</p><p>Karen smiled thinly. "We always worry about you." The 'we' part would have to do the job of diluting her feelings on the matter for now.</p><p>"Does it help?" Karen asked then, pointing at the punch bag. <em> "Hitting stuff." </em></p><p>Matt paced back a few steps back and shrugged. "Sometimes," he admitted, then straightened his right arm and splayed his fingers, measuring the distance between him and the object that she guessed was about to meet the unforgiving embrace of his fists. "Stay," he said. "If you want."</p><p>Maybe she'd gotten it all wrong, maybe she wasn't intruding. Or maybe it was just that once he was here, once he was in this head space, there was no leaving until it was done — until he was empty.</p><p>Karen didn't expect her body to jump like it did when he spurred the bag back into motion with a punch that almost seemed to fold the whole thing in half. </p><p>Air zipped through Matt's teeth; a breath in, and a sharp breath out, each fist as it impacted, sending a ripple up his arm, shaking the fibres his biceps and his blood-filled shoulders into action. The loose vest and sweats he was wearing, unlike his suit, allowed his body to move unrestricted and soon his calculated bouts were turning into a frenzied flurry of fists, too fast for Karen's eyes. The continuous slap-bang-thump coupled with the strained rattling of the chain above and the squeak of his sneakers against the floor rang in her ears, echoing loudly in the hollow room.</p><p>And that final, low left hook came with its own particularly animalistic sound — a snarl that was the coalesce of exertion, and effort and deadly skill, perfectly executed, perfectly refined. </p><p>When Matt untucked his hands from under his chin and finally let his guard down, it was like she wasn't even there anymore. </p><p>But she was. And Matt looked extra good when he was simultaneously gleaming with energy and utterly breathless. </p><p>She couldn't think why.</p><p>"You wanna shot?" He asked jokily — she hoped he was joking because all she could do was laugh in answer. </p><p>"What?" He chuckled, still panting, "I'm serious."</p><p>"Don't be ridiculous." Karen glared at him like she hadn't been doing that anyway. </p><p>"I'll teach ya," he cocked his head. </p><p>That was a bad idea — the thought of being any closer to him when he was like <em> this </em>. "I'll pass." Karen shook her head.</p><p>"C'mon, c'mere." his voice was lighter now, playful and <em> insistent </em> so she got up and moved towards him and he stood her in front of the bag, positioned himself behind her and <em> God </em> , the <em> heat </em> off him, the scent.</p><p>"Make a fist," he said. She did, feeling more and more stupid by the second. "Right here," he pointed at the center of the bag and Karen felt the shape of his smile at the back of her neck. "Pretend it's me." </p><p>Karen laughed and pinched her lip in her teeth. "You don't know what you're unleashing, Murdock," She bit back, shyly.</p><p>His response was a doubtful sounding chuckle which was a little insulting if she was honest, but probably justified.</p><p>She threw her fist outwards then, with the strength and tenacity of a fruit fly, proving him right.</p><p>"Okay," Matt said soft, in that monotone, trying-not to-offend-you, teacher-voice. </p><p>Who needed fists anyway? She had a gun. </p><p>"Needs work huh?" </p><p>"Gotta start somewhere," he replied.</p><p>Karen did consider then, more so than she'd done before, how it must feel to funnel the full force of your body into the brittle bone of someone's jaw, someone's ribs.</p><p>"It comes from your hips," Matt said delicately.He had her attention now, because she could feel his hand hovering there — not quite touching, but the heat from his palms was enough to draw blood flow towards his fingers. "Here —" he tapped her shoulder, "Your fist comes forward and you <em> twist," </em>he was guiding her in slow motion, "feet light, slightly on your toes." </p><p>It didn't help that this was the closest she'd been to another human male in months, and it had to be this particular male didn't it? </p><p>It had to be Matt.</p><p>"I think your expectations of me are too high," Karen shot herself down, but she hit the bag again anyway, twisting into it this time.</p><p>It was still awful.</p><p>"Good. Better." </p><p>Truthfully, the bag felt like concrete, and now her hand was hurting — but Matt telling her 'good' was stirring her loins for some reason.</p><p>She knew what he was getting at. Punch something, it'll make you feel better — she'd read about that sort of thing in those 'how to' articles about stress reduction: get more sleep, exercise more, eat better — have more sex.</p><p>"You're lucky you have this," Karen said, "this<em> outlet." </em> She backed out of the space he'd cornered her into.</p><p>"You think I'm lucky because I have to break stuff to make me feel better?" </p><p>She laughed. "Better than staring at the bottom of a whiskey glass."</p><p>A flicker of sadness or guilt crossed Matt's face as he reached down for his hoodie. "I'm sorry, Karen, really. I know it's been a lot lately."</p><p>She smiled. "It's okay," watching him unravel the wraps from his hands and swing his gym bag over his shoulder. "Maybe I'll uh, I dunno, get into yoga or something. That's what normal people do right?"</p><p>"Foggy got into yoga for a week or two before finals once," Matt mused, clearly smiling to himself at the memory. "It wasn't pretty." His smile straightened out — "not that <em> you </em> couldn't. I mean.. I'm sure it would be..better.  Um.." he hesitated. "It would be beneficial?"</p><p>"Yeah, don't worry," Karen was walking towards the door with him as he was unfolding his cane. "I don't plan on getting any healthier." </p><p>She had no reason to stay any longer. They lived in opposite directions and the night was still young for Matt. He had more important stuff to do.</p><p>"Be careful tonight," she said.</p><p>He nodded appreciatively and they parted ways, a disappearing clickclick on the sidewalk behind her that she wouldn't look back on.</p><p>That lonely glass of whiskey was calling her name.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Phew, okay. So when I said this was a BAD attempt at friends with benefits and I said Matt has Feelings ™<br/>Yeah….</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>Aside from the odd flying visit, Matt was lucky if he heard anything from Karen before 7pm when she was out on one of her PI days. He certainly didn't expect to find her here, waiting for them on the steps of the courthouse, baring much needed caffeinated gifts.</p><p>"Are you an angel?" Foggy bowed to her melodramatically. </p><p>She rolled her eyes. "I finished early, and thought you guys might be in need of a little pick-me-up."</p><p> It was the small things, with Karen. Always the small things.</p><p>"Thanks," Matt said, taking the warm cup and wrapping his hands around it. Truthfully, he was probably going to need this, seeing as though his day never ended when everyone else's did. And he was glad when Foggy left, and Karen chose not ask him about a case, or about how things were going with the trial, instead, she said:  </p><p>"I just wanted to thank you for last night. For um, letting me punch your..uh.." she grimaced, "your bag?" </p><p>Matt tried not to laugh. "Well that's definitely a new one. And you're welcome," he said. "You did good."</p><p>Karen's cheeks seemed to flush warmly. She cleared her throat. "So uh, are you going there now then?"</p><p>"Ah, nah not tonight," he replied. He was drained, but actually in a much better mood than yesterday, plus, his knuckles still hurt a little from his encounter with a not so friendly, would-be burglar after him and Karen had parted ways.  </p><p>"So you're not doing much?" Her question was clearing leading somewhere.</p><p>"What were you thinking?"</p><p>"I dunno," Karen considered, "maybe not drinking alone?"</p><p>"Sure," Matt shrugged. "I'd like that."</p><p>"My place then?"</p><p>Her place?</p><p>"Sure." </p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>Matt could hear Karen rummaging in the kitchen for some time before she eventually came through and said: "Is wine okay?" And sure enough, she was holding two wine glasses in her fingers. </p><p>"Sure," he said again, feeling like he was parroting a bit now. </p><p>She sat at a comfortable distance at the other end of the couch and handed him his drink.</p><p>"It didn't work then?" She motioned towards his split knuckles, visible now that he was holding the glass to his face. </p><p>"Hazards of the job," Matt brushed it off. </p><p>Truth was, punching leather was never enough. "But anyway, how are you holding up?" He asked, admiring the way her voice sounded when it was swirling inside the hollow of a glass.</p><p>"Well..I'm out of whiskey," she said amusingly, pointing at her drink. "Hence the.."</p><p>"That bad, huh?" </p><p>"Yeah, well, my dad rang me a few days back, so."</p><p>So it wasn't just the case, or the trial.</p><p>"He did?"</p><p>"Yeah." Her jaw clenched. "That's why the other day, in the office. I uh…"</p><p>"Ah." Matt said stiffly. He hated being forced to acknowledge the things he wasn't supposed to know. "What did he say?" </p><p>"Well apparently he's heard about the firm and he's been following my work." She chuckled bitterly. "Can you believe that? He actually said: it's nice to see you doing something <em> good." </em> The 'good' at the end was devastatingly emphasized.</p><p>Ouch.</p><p>"And I know he thinks that's what I want to hear," she went on. "But everytime I hear his voice it's like...I just — I get this feeling, you know? In my chest. It makes me feel sick."</p><p>Guilt, she was talking about guilt. And ah yes, Matt knew it well.</p><p>"But it's good that he's uh, communicating? Don't you think?" </p><p>Matt had no idea if that was good or not. Asking him for advice about family was like asking an arsonist for their opinions on fire safety management protocol. He wasn't qualified; nor should anyone want him to be. </p><p>But Karen's shoulders did move into what Matt thought might be a small, hopeful shrug in response to his words, and that made him feel good — helpful.</p><p>"Maybe you should just keep doing what you're doing," he offered, remembering to take another sip of his drink. "Doing good work, helping people, then maybe.."</p><p>"Then maybe he'll forgive me?" Karen finished sceptically. "Yeah I doubt that."</p><p>There was a pause because he didn't really know how to respond.</p><p>"You know I actually took up knitting?" Karen's smile bloomed wide and out of the blue. "As a distraction," she said, and she slouched back. "Or, I <em> tried </em> to take up knitting."</p><p>Matt breathed a sigh of relief at the change of subject. "And how's that working out?" He smirked.</p><p>"Not so well, kinda just makes me want to stab something." She froze for a second before clarifying. "Hypothetically, I mean." </p><p>"Well I hope so." Matt narrowed his eyes. "Because I don't recommend stabbing as a stress reliever."</p><p>"No," Karen giggled, "not very Catholic is it?"</p><p>"Not very Catholic," Matt agreed.</p><p>"So what would <em> Daredevil </em> do then?" She asked mischievously. "About all this?" There was an appealing flavour to her voice now, a looseness that was probably down to alcohol.</p><p>But even still, a little bit of heat blossomed in Matt's cheeks at the way her tongue formed the shape of the word <em> 'Daredevil.' </em></p><p> "Ah, you don't wanna be taking his advice. He'd just do something stupid, probably."</p><p>Karen seemed to accept his answer with a knowing smile pressed into the rim of her glass. "Top up?" She asked, already halfway to standing.</p><p>Matt nodded and handed her his glass. Realistically, it wasn't a good idea to be any more intoxicated than he already was. He was supposed to be out later..</p><p>But on the other hand, he was here now, with Karen. And they were talking.</p><p>And it was nice.</p><p>He listened to her while she filled the glasses in the kitchen, and when she came back, instead of passing the glass to him like she had done before, she stood behind him and passed it over his head, pairing it with the tiniest squeeze of her hand on the muscle where his neck met his shoulder. </p><p>After she sat down again she took a gulp of wine, a big one, and leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees.</p><p>"Can I ask you something?" She said. </p><p>Matt willed his eyes not to move and nodded.</p><p>"Do you ever think about…" she hesitated. "I mean, do you think you could ever — " again, she cut herself off. <em> "Jesus </em>," she glared at her glass of wine accusingly. "Nevermind. It doesn't matter."</p><p>But Matt pressed. "Do I what?"</p><p>Her nails chimed a rhythm on the stem before she stopped suddenly, probably remembering that his ears were sensitive to that sort of thing.</p><p>"Do you ever feel….I don't know, stuck?" She said, deflatedly. Matt had a feeling that wasn't what she was originally going to say. "Sometimes I just don't know if I'm numb or, if maybe I need to be more numb, you know?"</p><p>Matt did know. He leaned forward and she tracked his hand all the way to where it eventually landed on her shoulder. </p><p>"God, what is in this wine?" She stood suddenly. "I uh, I'm sorry, Matt. Maybe you should go."</p><p>Matt didn't think it sounded like an instruction, more like friendly advice, but she was walking towards the front door and he couldn't exactly sit there and refuse to leave. </p><p>"Karen, what's wrong?" He asked as she undid the latch for him. "You can tell me."</p><p>"Nothing," she said hollowly. "I had a bad idea. And it was a bad idea, so."</p><p>Matt relaxed a little. "You do know I'm somewhat of an expert at those?"</p><p>"Are you?" Karen laughed and then bit her lip for some reason. </p><p>He was aware of her back pressed against the door and the fact that he was probably too close. But when he felt her move, she touched her hand briefly on his chest before snatching it away again like the heat of his skin had just singed her fingers.</p><p>"Shit," she muttered quietly, as blaring as a passing fighter jet.</p><p>"Can I help in any way?" He asked.</p><p>"I don't know," she said. </p><p>But he was paying more attention now. Because yes, he'd gotten pretty good at blocking stuff out when it came to Karen and her certain, <em> very </em> distracting bodily functions. But sometimes, like now for example, when her heart was pounding and she was leaning in and he could smell her — it was impossible to ignore.</p><p>"Do you think you could distract me, Matt?"</p><p>
  <em> Distract her? </em>
</p><p>He didn't answer straight away, (because he physically could not) so she kept talking anyway. "Just once," she breathed, like she was pleading her case, even though Matt still didn't quite know what she meant. "I just...I <em> need </em>."</p><p>No, she couldn't mean that.</p><p>"It doesn't have to ruin our friendship," she said airily, confirming that yes, Matt must in fact be dreaming. "It doesn't have to." She was trying to convince herself, not him, he knew that much. </p><p>"Karen …" he swallowed. "What are you saying?"</p><p>Then she put her hand on his belt, his hip, and bit her lip again, hard. "Just sex," she said, "nothing else."</p><p>Some kind of innate instinct took over the second the words left her lips and he slid his hand into her hair and kissed her hard enough to slam the door that was slightly ajar back onto its latch, locking them inside.</p><p>He'd really missed this. The silkiness of her mouth, everything about her. </p><p>"Promise me," she breathed, as she turned him. "Promise me this won't  —" he interrupted her again with his lips on her neck and she made a noise like, "Mhmf, <em> God </em>. Matt, answer me. Our —" </p><p>But he was thinking with his cock now, if he was even thinking at all, already all pent up on the essence of her. So all he could manage was a vacant sounding — "Mm-hmm, yes. <em> Yes."  </em></p><p>Yes to what? He didn't even know.</p><p>He didn't know Karen's apartment as well as his own either but that didn't matter because she was graciously pulling him to where he knew there was a bed. </p><p>"You sure this is what you want?" He asked just to be certain the ten thousand fuck-me signals he was receiving from her body weren't lying to him somehow.</p><p>"Yes," she said "Matt, take your —"</p><p>"Yes," he agreed. It had been so long he'd almost forgotten how this worked. </p><p>Karen sat on the edge of her unmade bed while Matt worked on his shirt buttons, and she worked on her blouse and her skirt.</p><p>"How?" He asked, discarding his shirt towards the floor, his fingers unable to work fast enough on his pants that were markedly too tight. "How do you want it?" He bent down and kissed her then, just to feel her answer while her mouth was full.</p><p>"Just make me feel good," she replied, sucking in his bottom lip like a dare; Matt, groaning at the hot, heavy sting of it —  </p><p>That was simple. "I can do that." He was actually pretty confident he could do that.</p><p>In fact he'd spend a great deal of his own time thinking of all the precise, <em> exact </em> ways he could do that, to Karen. </p><p>He knelt down on the floor, his pants open but not off, not yet, and she melted back to grip handfuls of the sheets.</p><p>She moaned his name as he made the descent down her body, nuzzling at her skin with his nose, shedding her underwear. </p><p>Matt was familiar with the outline of Karen, but from a distance she was like a landscape covered in thick fog; he had to touch her, to really know what she looked like.</p><p>So he made a point of learning — every mole, every freckle, every imperfection that she didn't have. </p><p>And God, the sound she made when he put his mouth on her. </p><p>"Shit, you're good," she moaned out, her back arched as she rooted her fingers in his hair, and that felt better than good, to have her holding on like that.</p><p>He added his fingers, slipping them inside so easily; she was so wet and he drunk on the taste of her.</p><p>But before she was even half way there she was pulling him back up. "Matt… enough," she said, "I want..." And she was dragging him into his knees on the bed, an already unwrapped condom in her hands; he'd been too busy to even notice.</p><p>"Okay, hold on," he smiled and got off again to get rid of the rest of his clothes, rolling the condom on — and he tried not to let it go to his head — they were just friends — at way her heart rate spiked when she looked at him.</p><p>"You're sure about this?" He asked, pushing her down.</p><p>"If you ask me that again, I swear," she squirmed, dragging her hand greedily down the curve of his lower back and he guided himself into her.</p><p>Everything bad that he'd ever known seemed to dissolve in that instant, and it would stay that way, until this was over.</p><p>But control was much harder than he thought it would be. Karen was stealing it from him, gripping him, and meeting every one of his thrusts. He has to grit his teeth and think of something else. But he couldn't think of anything except her.</p><p>It didn't help that she was running her mouth under him, all — <em> you feel so good </em> , and <em> more, </em> and <em> harder. </em></p><p>And he shouldn't bite there — not above her shirt line where everyone would see. But the higher up her neck he kissed the more delectable her pulse tasted. </p><p>She could hide it with her hair maybe. </p><p>Fuck it. </p><p>And once they were together and moving, it was easy to finish the job he'd started with his mouth, soon her body was coiling, and coiling around him and he was feeling her grip him tighter until she was moaning and gasping. </p><p>When she opened her eyes after, she reached up and brushed the creases out of his cheeks. </p><p>"Wipe that grin off your face," she panted. </p><p>"Mhm?" He kissed her again. "What grin?"</p><p>A good excuse to turn her over. </p><p>He entered her again when she was belly down, ass up, jamming his hand between her body and the mattress. But this angle was too good; and he was close already.   </p><p>"Karen…" he rasped, "Jesus." </p><p>But the pleasure-sob she choked out told him to keep going, and she reached back and pulled his hair. </p><p>"Matt… <em> Matt. </em>Oh God —" the rest was lost in the pillow. She was coming again and he was going over with her this time. And God, she had him. She didn't know it yet — and he wouldn't tell her — but as long as he was still breathing; as long as the morning still came, and the sun shone, and stars still stretched on and on like a promise —</p><p>She had him.</p><p>And he was happy, before a small, breathless voice from beneath tempted him back to reality.</p><p>"Matt," it said.</p><p>"Do you think you can go again?"</p><p>
  <br/>
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</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>And here we can observe two friends doing friend-y things together being friendly</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The day started with two words; a word each.</p><p>"Morning."</p><p>"Morning," said so stiffly that it nearly made Karen shudder.</p><p>And Foggy, for all he was good at breaking up awkward exchanges with humour, may as well be standing in the middle of a village made of matchsticks after a hurricane had passed through.</p><p>He made his suspicions known on his face, silently making eyes at Karen before doing his best, <em> bad </em> Clint Eastwood impression, squinting before, much to her relief, carrying on with whatever he was doing. </p><p>Then Karen made herself busy, <em> really </em> busy, in her office. Much busier than usual.</p><p>Eventually Foggy poked his head around the door after Matt had presumably left for the courthouse and said:</p><p>"What's beefin' between you and Murdock?"</p><p>Karen's chest tightened a little, but instead of letting herself worry about whether or not he could tell, she focused on the absurdity of the word, "Beefin'?"</p><p>"Yeah," he said confidently, "you know, beefin? Poppin, currently occurring? Dude's been acting weird as hell all morning."</p><p>"Oh," Karen said, gathering her files, straightening them for the fourth or fifth time. "How'd you mean?"</p><p>"I dunno, like, happy?"</p><p>Oh. </p><p>Karen cleared her throat. "Why do you think I have anything to do with that?"</p><p>Foggy shrugged. "I guess I'm just hoping it's good news, you know, and it's not just that he's bumped his head really hard and not told us."</p><p>Karen forced a smile, realising she had to at least give him some of the truth. "Well we chatted, um, night last. But I don't see why —"</p><p>"Chatted? Or..." He eyed her fishily. "<em> Chatted?" </em></p><p>What was happening? Had she really been that up tight before? Was it written on her face? <em> 'I had sex with Matt last night.' </em> She hoped not.</p><p>"I don't know what that means, Foggy." She picked her bag and hooked it over her shoulder. "I have to go, I'm already late." She made a beeline for the door, forcing Foggy to one side as he held up his hands to make room.</p><p>"Jeez, it's like working with two of him." </p><p>Karen knew what that meant and it stung, it did, but she wasn't going to bite back now. </p><p>She'd do her grovelling later.</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>The rest of the day ticked by like time itself was submerged in treacle; every second, suffocatingly long and uninteresting.</p><p>Her mind was elsewhere.</p><p>It felt like a year had passed by the time Karen had succumbed to the idea that she would have to face Matt again eventually.</p><p>She found him in the first place she looked, sitting at the bar at Josie's, and surprisingly, he was alone.</p><p>"Hey, you." She tapped his shoulder.</p><p>"Hey, Karen." </p><p>"Foggy got somewhere better to be?" she asked cheekily, pulling up a stool.</p><p>"Something like that, yeah," Matt said, "he promised Marci he would take her to that new seafood place."</p><p>"The one that's just opened?" Karen replied, "I think I read about that, it's a Michelin-star or something right?"</p><p>"Right, yeah, something fancy like that."</p><p>Karen took a pause. "Sounds terrible,' she smiled.</p><p>"Yeah," Matt chuckled, "yeah, it does." He twisted in his seat so he was facing her, Karen twisted in hers so that she was facing the bar. "Anyway, how're you doing?" Matt asked. "How was your day?"</p><p>So they were doing small talk now. Excellent.</p><p>"Yeah, good," she said, "and I'm good." Apparently her vocabulary was the thing that was suffering the most from this new arrangement.</p><p>There was an agonizing silence after Matt nodded.</p><p>"And uh, how's the uh, stress levels?" The question was loaded with suggestive tone that forced Karen to bite her lip hard in order to stop herself from grinning. </p><p>It was on his mind too, then.</p><p>"They're good, actually." She swiped a quick swig of Matt's drink while her confidence was up. "Better."</p><p>"Oh, good, good. I'm glad."</p><p>She finally brought herself to drag her eyes away from the bar and look at him. </p><p>He was doing that <em> thing.</em> It was Matt's equivalent gazing <em> intently,</em> she supposed — except Matt didn't look at you, he sensed you, and it made her feel like he was turning her inside out.</p><p>After a pause he tipped back the last of his whiskey and placed the empty glass down in front of her in a way that felt like it might be a hint. </p><p>But she was trying not to read into things.</p><p>"So I suppose that's it then," Matt added when the laughter faded into silence. "Problem solved?"</p><p>Karen shrugged out a smile "Huh, Yeah. Yeah, I guess you're right."</p><p>"Right." He agreed</p><p>"Yep."</p><p>"No need to do it again, then."</p><p>"No," she said, "no need at all."</p><p> </p><p>~ </p><p> </p><p>They didn't even make it halfway up the stairs to his apartment before they were being reckless, Matt, choosing to pick her up behind her knees and carry her the rest of the way. </p><p>Luckily for both of them, the local guard dog, Fran, was being unusually scarce for once.  </p><p>They made straight for his bed after that, going  through the motions; unbuttoning shirts and slipping off shoes, like they'd done it a million times before. </p><p>"I wanna go on top this time, okay?" She undid her bra and pushed on Matt's chest, he nodded.</p><p>"Okay."</p><p>They didn't bother quite so much with the formalities like of the previous night, if you could call them that. The thought of what was coming meant that she was wet enough already, and it wasn't long before she was sinking down onto him and sighing deeply, relishing the feeling. </p><p>She'd missed this. </p><p>It hadn't even been 24 hours, but she'd missed this. </p><p>That couldn't be good.</p><p>He was holding her hips while she was riding him, fingertips lost deep in the flesh of her thighs, making her feel like her body was worth worshipping, his face flickering between a look of concentration and incomprehensible bliss.</p><p>"God, you're —" Matt made an approving grunt, "you're perfect —"</p><p>They were just words, said in the heat of the moment; and obviously he didn't mean it, but right now it was exactly what she needed, a blush that she couldn't hide from him crept over body in response. He followed it with his hands as he sat up so they were closer, so he could kiss her again, with one hand kneading her ass while she rocked.</p><p>"Karen," he rasped, "your— your heart beats so fast when I..."</p><p>She nodded, more.</p><p>"You like that?" he said, sweet and firm. "You like me telling you you're good Karen?"</p><p>She nodded again, <em>fuck.</em></p><p>It was like a drug, hearing him praise her like that. And she was so high she couldn't see straight. She didn't care.</p><p>"Matt…" she managed to whimper as his free hand was coming to rest on her face, holding her foreheads steady as he thrusted up into her, a thumb ghosting the open curve of her bottom lip.</p><p>"So perfect," he breathed again, unsteady, shakily. "Such a good girl for me." She closed her eyes and she let herself <em>feel</em>, like Matt did, drenched head to toe in the nothingness and the everything of it.</p><p>She was crashing.</p><p>She never wanted it to end.</p><p>
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</p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>And who knew Matt would be so much easier to talk to when he was spent.</p><p>Maybe it was just the chemicals flooding his brain or maybe he just didn't have enough energy left after that performance to lie, but either way it was nice, having a conversation with him that wasn't punctuated with the sound of another eggshell cracking.</p><p>And the view, she had to admit, was another bonus. He was lying on his side under a silk sheet, and the dying light from the window was dividing him up with strips of dark that were bending and warping with the lines of his ridiculous body. His hand had gravitated towards the nearest soft thing; a strand of Karen's hair that was fanned out over the pillow beside her, twizzling it between his thumb and forefinger.</p><p>"So, tell me Matt," she said, feeling considerably more brave than usual. "How many <em> actual </em> girlfriends have you had?" </p><p>Matt grumbled before stirring from his position beside her, turning onto his back to reluctantly hold up a single finger.</p><p>"One?" Karen scoffed. "Shut up."</p><p>Matt chuckled. "Just so you know, I have no idea what that's supposed to mean."</p><p>'Well I think you do." Karen raised her eyebrows suggestively and Matt shot her smile back.</p><p>"Okay, I've <em> been </em> with women," he clarified, "just not –"</p><p><em> Been with? </em> "Ohh so you've <em> fucked </em> women, you mean?" Karen teased. "Rail and bail? Leave em heartbroken and aching for more right?" Her tone was light, her intention, not so much.</p><p>But Matt's cheeks were glowing with a mixture of smugness and embarrassment that she was enjoying too much to be angry at.</p><p>"It wasn't like that," he sounded serious. "I respect—….I wouldn't just…" No, he wouldn't. Matt wasn't like that. But the way he was looking right now, she wouldn't blame him. "When I was in college, I uh, um. Well, let's just say, I found out pretty quickly that being out all night, with a girl. It was a good excuse."</p><p>"Because you were Daredeviling?" </p><p>"I wasn't Daredevil back then but yeah."</p><p>So Matt had a lot of years of practice under his belt at keeping secrets? Who knew. Maybe it was about time Karen stopped being so harsh on herself for not figuring it out sooner.</p><p>Matt turned back to her with the most dirty looking grin on his face. "Foggy...on the other hand…"</p><p>"No."</p><p>"<em> So many </em> women Karen."</p><p>"Matt!" Her hands shot up to cover her face, "oh God."</p><p>"Seriously," he said, looking proud, "don't underestimate that man, I've heard it with my own two ears." Matt flinched as he anticipated the trajectory of the pillow Karen had just tossed towards his face.</p><p>"I'm scarred, Matt."</p><p>"Yeah well," he chuckled, "join the club."</p><p>They were laughing, and it was nice, even if it was at Foggy's expense. And who was she kidding? He'd probably just give Matt a high five if he was here.</p><p>"You know I think I would've believed that," Karen said then, finally sitting up to start to locate her discarded clothes. "Matt Murdock the <em> womanizer </em>. The sex addict." </p><p>Matt looked like he might be flattered, but Karen wasn't sure. "You mean instead of the alcoholic thing right?" </p><p>"Yeah," she said, swinging her legs off the side of the bed.</p><p>"But it wouldn't have explained the bruises?"</p><p>Karen smirked to herself before stating, matter of factly — "Well I guess that depends what you're into." </p><p>She didn't have super senses, but she could practically hear Matt's lips slacken in surprise.</p><p>"Do I get to ask you then?" Matt said carefully. "Boyfriends?" He paused, "girlfriends?"</p><p>Karen eyed him over her naked shoulder before she pulled her sweater back on. "One time's the charm for us two I guess."</p><p>Matt's eyebrows went up. </p><p>
  <em> "What?" </em>
</p><p>"Nothing, nothing."</p><p>"No seriously, what?" Karen hated when he did that, when he made that <em> face </em>.</p><p>"Well...it's just, I've known you a while now Karen. And uh, you tend to.. how shall I put this?" He was teasing her.</p><p>"Raise a lot of heart rates."</p><p>Oh. She shifted uncomfortably.</p><p>"Is that a weird way of saying you think I'm pretty?" She wasn't looking at him anymore, she was looking at the floor in front of her.</p><p>"No," he said, "I know you're pretty."</p><p>Karen stood then, she had to, wrangling her hair back into a messy bun and pulling on her skirt without bothering with her underwear. "That's fairly high on the creepy-scale you know that right?"</p><p>She heard him chuckle behind her.</p><p> They'd gotten too comfortable. <em> She'd </em>gotten too comfortable.</p><p>"You'll be going out soon?" She asked, it was getting dark, and his duties were sure to be calling him by now, but Matt's mouth stretched open into a yawn seemingly at the mere thought of it. She never thought she'd see the day.</p><p>"In an hour or something."</p><p>"Right," she said, "well anyway, I better go."</p><p>"Yeah of course." He sat up, and for a moment she thought he was going to jump right out of bed and walk her to the door in his naked state, but then he froze and sank back down again.</p><p>"Thanks for….um." She bit her lip. <em> "This." </em> Choosing to stay a distance away from him as she passed by the side of the bed, knowing that If she didn't, she'd want to say goodbye. She'd want to kiss him, and that'd be too much. </p><p>"My pleasure," he smiled softly, contentedly, with eyes that didn't quite match. "I guess I'll uh, I'll see you tomorrow?"</p><p>Karen nodded. "Yeah. See you tomorrow, Matt."</p><p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the delay in updating this, life got in the way this week!<br/>Hope you enjoy this final chapter ☺️</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Stick would know. If he was here. </p><p>There'd be no hiding this from him.</p><p>         <em> Skin's too hot. </em></p><p>
  <em> Hearts beating fast. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>                           <em> Am I sick?  </em></p><p><em> "Worse." </em> He'd say. </p><p>"Okay okay, um, what about…" the warmth of Karen's hand wrapped itself around Matt's forearm as she rolled closer. "What about the rain?" She asked, "real heavy rain, or… <em> thunder. </em> Or <em> chocolate </em> ." Her voice blossomed into excitement. "What about chocolate, <em> oh my God </em> I've never even thought about chocolate. How does that taste? How does it <em> really </em> taste? To you I mean? It must be.."</p><p>Over the time he'd known Karen, Matt had developed a bit of a love/hate relationship with her seemingly relentless thirst for knowledge. Even he could admit that sometimes it could all be too much, but tonight, with her next to him, smelling of sex and sounding like nothing would ever satisfy her wonder; it was heaven.</p><p>And of course Matt couldn't <em> see </em> when Karen was looking at him. He just <em> knew </em>when she was. Just like he knew that her eyes were big and blue like how he remembered the sky.</p><p>And recently, she'd been smiling more, looking at him more, laughing more. Mostly at silly things which had nothing to with him, but he'd selfishly noted that she must be feeling good and that it just happened to coincide with the fact they'd been spending more time together.</p><p>Happiness was addictive on her.</p><p>Matt began wondering how he could make more of it. What it would be like to run his fingers through her hair until she feel asleep, or how she sounded before her morning coffee.</p><p>But that wasn't something friends did, was it? </p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>After pacing for five minutes straight, looking so lost that several passersby had already asked him if he were okay, Matt finally plucked up the courage to actually enter the store.</p><p>Such a simple plan shouldn't be so difficult.</p><p>All he had to do was buy Karen a box of chocolates, (the best chocolates in Manhattan, if his opinion meant anything) then he'd hand said said box of chocolates to Karen; call it a gift, call it whatever. It was just chocolates right? </p><p>So why was he overthinking it? </p><p>He was just passing through the area, after all, he'd just happened to be here, and he'd just happened to think of her and their conversation about Matt's superior chocolate tasting abilities.</p><p>Or at least that's what he'd tell Karen.</p><p>The truth was that he'd gone pretty out of his way to get here between clients so that he could buy her a silly box of chocolates. And that he <em> was </em> thinking of her <em> — all the time </em>, actually. It wasn't even really optional anymore, the same way he couldn't choose whether or not his lungs needed air.</p><p> </p><p>~ </p><p> </p><p>When Matt got back to the office he put the box in the top drawer of his desk where he'd leave them to marinate along with his thoughts on the matter. </p><p>Maybe he'd give her them, maybe he wouldn't. He'd decide that part later.</p><p>In the meantime, he had work to do. He opened his laptop and pushed both ear buds firmly into his ears to focus his attention on something he could quantify. Something he could solve.</p><p>Which was all good in theory, but not ten minutes had passed before the door to his office swung open and Foggy chirped over the monotonal drone of the electronic voice in his ear.</p><p>"Now, I don't like to throw around the term <em> genius </em> but I actually think I might be —" Foggy stopped short as Matt pulled one of his headphones out. "You haven't even touched your beef ravioli dude, you feeling okay?"</p><p>Matt's brain slowed to a crawl. There was food here? </p><p>"Huh? Oh, that." </p><p>So apparently he'd forgotten to eat, which wasn't exactly unusual for him, but. "I was working," he said. "I'm not that hungry."</p><p>Foggy's face creased into a suspicious frown and then loosened again. "So... what you're saying is...you don't want that beef ravioli?"</p><p>Matt chuckled, relieved at lack of questioning. "Knock yourself out buddy."</p><p>Foggy picked up the carton and impaled several unsuspecting pieces of pasta at once, murmuring a pleased sounding "jackpot" to himself as he half chewed, half talked — Matt hated when he did that — "do I need to be worried?" He added.</p><p>"About what?" Matt answered half mindedly. </p><p>"Well… it's just…"</p><p>Matt tried not to flinch at the sudden drop in pressure he felt in Foggy's lungs — a long breath out that was sure sign he was about to poke around somewhere he wasn't wanted.</p><p>"The vibe lately," he said, "it's been uh, I don't know."</p><p>"It's been what Foggy?" Matt's hands were still moving on his laptop, doing something but not actually achieving a great deal. </p><p>"Karen.. um…" Foggy grimaced. "Ah shit, no actually, forget I said anything."</p><p>But Matt couldn't ignore that. If there was something wrong, something that involved Karen. </p><p>"What is it Foggy? What did Karen say?"</p><p>He put the food back down on the desk. "The thing is… she told me in confidence, I <em> think </em>, I mean, she didn't specifically say… or I wouldn't be — but I'm pretty sure I shouldn't."</p><p>"Just spit it out Foggy."</p><p>"She was upset," he said, "the other day. So I asked, I mean I sorta bullied it out of her really, so don't be angry at her. You know how mean I can get when…"</p><p>"Foggy…"</p><p>"She said.... <em> you and her."  </em></p><p>You and her.</p><p>Oh God he knew. She'd told him and he knew, and now he looked like a complete idiot.</p><p>"She said she kissed you or something right?"</p><p>"What?" Matt relaxed a little. "That's what she told you?"</p><p>"Is that not what happened?"</p><p>"No that's uh, that's what happened." Matt didn't feel quite as guilty as usual telling a lie that wasn't his own. "What did – why did she…" he stuttered, trying his best not to sound too interested. "What else did she say?"</p><p>Foggy sighed, "I think she thinks she's messed things up? I don't know man, do I look like Oprah Winfrey?" He paused. "Don't answer that. She just seemed upset, Matt.. then happy, then upset again. So I figured if it was that complicated then maybe it's something you need to talk to her about. I don't want things being weird between us all."</p><p>"Yeah no you're right," Matt agreed. "I get it Foggy. I'll talk to her. Thanks."</p><p>That should have been enough; conversation over — but Matt hadn't realised how much time had passed without words when, to his horror, Foggy took a further step <em> into </em> his office instead of out of it.</p><p>"Buddy…"</p><p>Matt answered with a marginally bratty head turn. </p><p>He was busy. Why was he even still here? </p><p>"If you... God I hate this," Foggy muttered to himself. "You know how I care about both of you, right? Like, a hell of a lot?"</p><p>Matt couldn't answer, but he knew.</p><p>"And I gotta work with you both, like, I see you more than my own fiancée. That's weird right?" </p><p>"I know…" Matt felt his jaw clench.</p><p>"So... if, and that's an if — I'm not prying, but… if you...<em> feel </em> something for her, Matt.. Please consider telling her," he urged. "And if you don't feel anything.. please also consider telling her, preferably sooner rather than later."</p><p>Matt felt his eyes close briefly.</p><p>Foggy was right.</p><p>"Just promise me you'll be honest with her," Foggy's voice was soaked in what sounded like concern and care, and Matt couldn't argue with it, even though he wanted to.</p><p>All he could do was nod. "I'll tell her," he said.</p><p>
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</p><p>~ </p><p> </p><p>Much later, when Matt answered his door to Karen like he had done most nights this past few weeks, he was caught off guard by the surprising lack of a kiss. Instead, she took a long step forward and fell onto his chest, wrapping both her arms under his, crossing her hands behind his back where she squeezed like her life depended on it.</p><p>This was new. </p><p>Or maybe old, if Matt's memory served.</p><p>He felt her take a deep breath in against his neck, her body relaxing in tandem with the way it flowed out of her nostrils; warming the cotton of his shirt, her whole being loosening into a pleasantly dead weight that made him feel horrendously protective.</p><p>"What's wrong?" He asked quietly. </p><p>"I'm sorry," were the first words out of her mouth. "It's just, today's been… " she sighed, "long."</p><p>Matt understood too well.</p><p>"I was thinking. Do you mind if we don't tonight?" She pulled away slightly to look at him sympathetically, like she might be expecting him to be disappointed, or angry. "Maybe we could just…I don't know.."</p><p>But Matt never thought he'd ever be as happy as this at the thought of <em> not </em> having sex with Karen Page.</p><p>Tonight he didn't want that. Tonight he just wanted to be.</p><p>To <em> be, </em> with <em> her. </em></p><p>"Yeah, yeah of course. We can get takeout?" He suggested.</p><p>Karen smiled wide. "Yeah. Yeah let's do that."</p><p> </p><p>~ </p><p> </p><p>It reminded him of old times, in the best way, like looking back at a highlight reel with all the bad bits edited out.</p><p>Karen was sitting on the couch next to him, too close, knees touching, her heat bleeding through the thin fabric of his pants. Her voice wore the day like a trophy; husky and tired, and after a while, giving way to something more relaxed, and uncaring and <em> honest </em> that Matt liked far better anyway.</p><p>Their choice of takeout wasn't going her way either, because apparently Karen was really bad at eating noodles with chopsticks. Like, <em> really </em> bad. And no amount of warning could have prepared Matt for the overwhelmingly strong pang of affection he felt over the matter. </p><p>"I got you something," he said then, if only to distract himself from the slurping noises she was making as she swiped hopelessly at liquid with the two pieces of wood in her fingers.</p><p>Matt handed her the box of chocolates.</p><p>"The best in Manhattan," he smiled, "if you want my opinion."</p><p>She held back for a moment, cautious even though her heart was thrumming. "For me?"</p><p>Matt nodded assuringly and her cheeks flushed warm as she took the box from him, handling it like it was made of glass for a second or two before she was running her nail along the seal and prying open the lid, glancing excitedly over the little leaflet inside that listed all the flavours.</p><p>A quiet gasp escaped her lips when she read out the words —<em> "salted caramel praline?" </em></p><p>Within seconds half of it was in her mouth, the perfectly tempered chocolate shell cracking between her teeth.</p><p>She made a noise then, similar to one he could make her do sometimes when he did this <em> particular </em> thing that she liked with his tongue —</p><p>But he shouldn't be thinking about that. </p><p>"These <em> are </em> the best," she said, muffled before passing him the remaining half, pressing it to his lips.</p><p>He opened them obediently.</p><p>It tasted of salted caramel praline, unsurprisingly, but it also tasted of Karen. A dangerous concoction; enough to make every crease drop out of his face in bliss.</p><p>"I'm so jealous of your superhero taste buds," she laughed, smiling and slipping her arm around his shoulder before planting a soft kiss on his cheek.</p><p>"What was that for?" Matt asked shyly. He didn't know why he was blushing, it wasn't like Karen and him hadn't kissed before. </p><p>"A thanks," she said. "For thinking of me."</p><p>Denying it would only hurt her — it would also be a lie.</p><p>"That's okay," he managed to say, pathetic really, but it didn't seem to deter her as her lips found his and he sought the heat around the nape of her neck and the cool tip of her nose pressed into his cheek. "It was only chocolates," Matt offered in light protest to what seemed to be a slight overreaction — not that he was complaining.</p><p>"Was it?"</p><p>He faulted for a second at the question, remembering what Foggy said.</p><p>But still, he let her climb into his lap because he couldn't say no, her hair falling out from behind her ears on all sides of him. She hummed an approving sound as she found a deeper, closer seat but for once he resisted the urge to lower his hands to her thighs where he could drag them upwards; inevitably bumping into her underwear, which he would regretfully have to remove, which would lead to other things that would take priority over the words he had in his mouth.</p><p>"Karen…"</p><p>He took a deep breath, that this close, was mostly stolen from her.</p><p>"Can I ask you something?"</p><p>Her mouth stopped moving on his and she was staring at him — tearing him in two with those eyes.</p><p>"Can I – can I take you to dinner?"</p><p>All of a sudden he felt naked. Exposed, like he'd made a mistake.</p><p>"I'm sorry."</p><p>"No," Karen said. </p><p>"It's okay, I shouldn't have."</p><p>"No I mean, <em> Matt </em>." Her fingers traced over his cheek, he focused on the softness of them, the certainty of her touch. She was here and she was touching him still, and she hadn't left. "I'd like that," she said warmly.</p><p>"You would?"</p><p>She laughed like it was all obvious; like he was stupid for ever doubting it. </p><p>"How can you not tell?" She held the flat of his hand to her chest where her heart was pounding loudly, so loud now that he was indulging in it, it was nearly deafening.</p><p>"It doesn't work like that," he argued even despite the sense of relief that was washing over him, but she smiled softly.</p><p>"I know."</p><p>And that was the moment Matt realised how far they'd really come; how much more they understood each other now, and somehow those two little words 'I know' made him hate himself just a little less.</p><p>Karen cleared her throat as she played with a little strand of his fringe. "So if we're uh, having dinner together…. Then that's sort of a romantic thing, right?" </p><p>She paused.</p><p>"Like a date?"</p><p>Matt thought he might burst. </p><p>"Whatever you want, I mean…we don't have to—"</p><p>She kissed him again. "Tomorrow, then?"</p><p>"Tomorrow," he echoed, feeling Karen smile. There was no need to ask where they were going — there was only one place that would do.</p><p>"And maybe, if you wanted.." she bit her lip, "you could come up this time?"</p><p>
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